


can't stay at home, can't stay at school

by ashintuku



Series: fox on the run [9]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Kid Fic, Mild Language, Unconventional Families
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-11-23 04:18:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11395188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashintuku/pseuds/ashintuku
Summary: “Wait, wait,wait– is what I think happening happening?”





	can't stay at home, can't stay at school

Kraglin would follow his Cap’n to the ends of the galaxy and back if the old blue bastard had ever asked him to. 

It was hard not to have that kind of loyalty, really, when it was the Cap’n who had taken one look at the Xandarian street rat, dirty face and oversized shoes and all, and said ‘yeah, he’d make a good crewmate’ before hauling his ass out of the alleyways he’d grudgingly called home and tossed him into Ravager reds. 

You just kinda develop a loyalty for the person who makes sure ya got warm food in your belly and clothes that actually fit keepin’ ya warm, y’know? 

So when the old blue bastard announced he was an exile, telling his crew they can stay or go depending on how they felt about his change in status, Kraglin was thrown for a bit of a loop. They’d been fine, Code-abiding (for the most part) Ravagers just that morning. What had changed? 

It was when the Cap’n told him that the kid was good for thievin’, not mentioning his old man one bit that it started to fall into place. 

It wasn’t easy, dealin’ with a brat that young on the ship who was half furious, half terrified of everyone around him. One crewmate joked once that all the kid was _really_ good for was eatin’, and the rest of the crew ran with it, until even the Cap’n was telling the boy ‘do this or do that or we’s gon’ eat’cha’. It was jokes, honestly – harmless jokes. No one on the crew was a damned cannibal, and they tried not to eat anything that could think so sophisticatedly if they could help it. 

But it kept the boy in line most of the time, so they kept with it, until it just became somethin’ that was said. After a while, even the boy stopped lookin’ so terrified when it was tossed out in frustration. 

Kraglin thought he wasn’t that bad a kid, really. Better than he’d been, his age, and that was sayin’ something. He could crawl around vents and ducts to clear ‘em out and find the funny noises, and he was actually pretty damned clever; knew his numbers and how to divide ‘em and everything. 

The Cap’n kept him at his book learnin’, once he found out what all those books in his backpack were for. Found him more advanced things when the boy could rattle off the answers in his books off the top of his head; made him learn and learn ‘cause bein’ dumb in the galaxy was a death sentence. 

In-between jobs, the crew would go lookin’ for anything to help the boy learn even more; they hunted down history books and how-to-do guides. Tullk once found a book on terran artists on the black market, ‘cause paintings from the backwards planet were becomin’ more and more popular there. It was hard to get genuine paintings from Terra, which increased their value to about fifty fold. 

They all grew their attachments to the boy in their own way; Tullk acted like an uncle to the boy whenever he’d let ‘im, and Oblo liked to pop up and randomly quiz him like some sort of knowledge terror. Ger taught him dirty limericks, and was almost beaten blue for it by the Cap’n ‘cause it was all the boy sang for a week straight. 

But it was Kraglin the boy seemed to latch onto. Kraglin and the Cap’n, but for different reasons. 

(No one talked about why the boy and the Cap’n had the relationship they did. It was suicide, it was, and none of them particularly wanted t’die at the end of the day.) 

But li’l Quill stuck close to Kraglin whenever he could, askin’ him questions and tellin’ him about the different things he’d did that day. He asked him for help whenever he made up a new thing outta one of his old things, which was always interestin’. And sometimes, he even shared his music with Kraglin, and Kraglin knew what kind of trust that took for him to offer. 

So it really wasn’t no surprise when the Cap’n came up to him, a few months after what Kraglin decided to call ‘the Hotwire Incident’, tellin’ him he was going t’teach li’l Quill how to properly fly a craft. 

He didn’t have to _like_ it, but it was no surprise, and he’d do it either way. 

Striding down the halls of the Quadrant’s lower levels, he came up to the supply closet that had been commandeered by the kid when he was eight and terrified of Horuz and Oblo walkin’ by him. Cap’n always said they’d eventually boot him out, make him sleep with the others, but Kraglin knew better. It was just a level below the Captain’s quarters, easy enough to get to, and Kraglin knew Cap’n liked knowin’ where the boy was and that he was safe. 

Said nothin’ about it, but knew it all the same. 

Rapping the door a few times with his knuckles, he then punched in the code and forced the door open to see li’l Quill sprawled over his bed, headphones on and music blastin’. He had all the moodiness of a kid his age and Kraglin remembered with painful clarity how cranky and know-it-all he’d been around then, too. 

Meant he knew how to deal with it, too. 

“Alright, li’l Quill, up an’ at’em, we’re gon’ learn stuff t’day!” 

Li’l Quill didn’t move, and Kraglin sighed. He then reached forward. 

Quill squawked with all the dignity of a fourteen-year-old fallin’ out of his bed after someone’s flipped the mattress, crashing in a pile of gangly limbs and then groaning when the mattress was dropped on top of him. Kraglin crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe, waiting him out. 

“What the _hell_ , man?” Quill finally grumbled, pushing the mattress off of him and glaring up at the first mate. His headphones were on his neck, one of the foam ear things twisted the opposite way, and he looked flustered and pissed off and also like he probably landed on his elbow kinda funny. Kraglin only smirked. The teenager rolled his eyes. 

“What?” 

“We’ve got a lesson t’day, you an’I.” 

“A lesson? Seriously?” Quill stood up, righting his mattress in a half-assed fashion and tossing his bedsheets and shit on top of it. He made a weak attempt to make it look neat, but after a minute seemed to call it done and turned back to Kraglin. “I thought it was gonna be Yondu comin’ in here, and I thought the lesson was gonna be another self-defence class where I get my ass kicked.” 

(Kraglin would look back on this conversation a few years down the line and miss the blunt honesty Quill had once carried himself with. It was about a few years down the line that he started to embellish and make shit up to make himself sound impressive. It was also then that he would discover attractive persons and his libido.) 

“Not t’day, li’l Quill,” he said, smirking when Quill rolled his eyes at the nickname. The kid was still only at his shoulders, but he didn’t know how long that was gonna last; he was going t’use that nickname until it made no sense to try it. “Yer stuck with me. Now c’mon, let’s get goin’ already.” 

He turned and started walking away; after a few seconds, he heard Quill’s quick footsteps behind him, glancing back to see him half-running just to keep up with his long strides. 

They left the main area of the third Quadrant, makin’ their way through the twisting, turning hallways of the _Eclector_ and ignorin’ anyone who so much as smirked in their direction. Most of them thought Kraglin was goin’ to beat the boy silly for almost crashing through the bay doors and killin’ ‘em all. Kraglin wasn’t about to make ‘em think differently. 

They finally go to the doors to the docking bay, where Tullk was standin’ guard, makin’ sure no one went near it. The older man gave a nod to Kraglin as he walked up, and Kraglin walked in, Quill quiet and curious behind him. 

“Wait,” Quill said, stopping just inside of the doors; Tullk closed it behind him, making the sliding hiss more obvious than usual. “Wait, wait, _wait_ – is what I think happening happening?”

“Is that you standin’ there with yer head half eyes, ‘cause yes,” Kraglin said, rolling his eyes. He started walkin’ again, and Quill scampered after him, reaching out and tugging on his jacket. “ _What _, kid?”__

____

____

“Am I gonna learn how to fly an _M-ship_?” 

Kraglin blinked, looking at the boy’s wide, hopeful expression, before he snorted and shook his head. He led them down the aisle of ships, finally comin’ up to an old junker of a craft that looked ready to fall apart and die at any given moment. 

It was a mining vessel, used for the big break-ins that they’d done one job for since grabbin’ Quill and bein’ exiled, and it was honestly a piece of shit. But it wasn’t an M-ship, and that was the _point_. 

“Yer gonna learn how to fly _that_ ,” he said, waving a hand to emphasise the junker. He grinned when Quill’s hopes and dreams appeared to die on his face. “C’mon, now, ya really thought the Cap’n would let you _near_ one of the M-ships after the stunt you pulled?” 

“He dared me to hotwire it!” 

“Yeah, he didn’t dare ya t’try and _fly_ it, dumbass. Now c’mon, I wanna get the basics down before dinner.” 

They walked up to the junker, Kraglin reaching out and punching in the code for the side door soon as they were close enough. It creaked open on old joints, making Quill wince at the noise, and then Kraglin pushed the boy in and followed after him. 

“Don’t bother sittin’ on the lower deck,” Kraglin said, pushing the boy towards the ladder that led to the upper level. “That controls the minin’ lasers.”

“The _what_?” 

“It’s a minin’ craft, li’l Quill,” Kraglin said, climbing up the ladder once the teenager was already up, “it uses lasers t’cut through rock and shit. Now siddown in the right seat, I’ll take left.” 

They sat down in the seats, Kraglin checking things over to make sure nothing was already on or running and would make them move in any way. No need to damage the docking bay _twice_ , now. 

“Alright, so, this thing’s a piece o’shit, but it’s got the standard rules about start up sequences and all’a that, so it’s a safer way t’teach ya what ya gotta know. Once you can turn this fucker on without screwin’ up too bad, we’ll think about lettin’ ya fly an M-ship. And _only_ if you can get through the sequence without screwin’ up too bad, mind.” 

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” Quill leaned forward, looking at all the buttons with curious eyes. “Walk me through it already.” 

“We’ll go at my own damned pace, ya brat,” Kraglin said, but after a moment, he started anyway. 

He went through the safety checks, first, because that seemed sensible; showed him how to check on the fuel tank and what lights meant shit all and what lights meant the entire craft was going to go up in flames; showed him the regular break and the emergency break, because those were always good things to know. He made him repeat the things he told him back, until Quill could point to each thing and say what it was for. 

He then showed him the sequence to start up the engines, going through it slowly so that he could follow along on his own console. The craft was meant mostly for a small team, maybe two or three people, and it only had two main controls so that one crew could take a break after steering for a while, the other taking over while the first took a nap. It made it a bit easier to show Quill what to do, since he didn’t have to switch out of the seat every other minute to let the boy try. 

They practiced the start-up sequence for a while, Kraglin interruptin’ to ask Quill why they needed to press this button before switching that switch and the like. He’d been sure that when he accepted the job of teaching the kid how to fly a ship that Quill would be fidgety and impatient and annoying, because that was just how the kid was. Kraglin didn’t hold it against him or anythin’; he was still just a kid at the end of the day. Kids were annoying, bothersome little beasts, and terrans apparently the worst of ‘em. 

But Quill actually seemed interested, listenin’ intently and repeating everything back almost verbatim, he was so determined to learn. It was kinda nice, just the two of ‘em spendin’ time in the junker’s cockpit, no other crew to worry about and no masks to hold up. Made him think that maybe this was what havin’ a little brother was like or somethin’. 

Eventually, though, a ping came from Kraglin’s comm, alerting him to the fact that it was dinnertime in the mess and lesson time was over. He reached out and ruffled Quill’s hair, grinning when the teenager squawked at him. 

“Alright, Pete, let’s get outta here. S’enough for tonight, I think.” 

He got up, heading back to the ladder; only stopping and looking back when Quill didn’t move. 

“...Didja hear me?” 

“You called me Pete.” 

Kraglin blinked, thinking back over what he’d said, before nodding slowly. 

“Yep. Sure did.” He raised an eyebrow. “Problem?” 

Quill shook his head quickly, getting up and running over to his side; grinning up at him with a boyish charm his young face still got away with. 

“Race ya to the mess?” 

“Last one there has t’eat Cook’s surprise dish.” 

“You’re on!” 

Kraglin leaned back as Quill slid down the ladder, watching him clamber out of the junker and towards the door with a grin on his face; following after him at his own pace. 

When they got to the mess, Quill a panting mess and Kraglin walkin’ easy as you’d please, the boy looked up at him triumphantly and he rolled his eyes. He ruffled up the kid’s hair, walking passed him and into the mess proper. 

Cap’n waved him over before he could get his food, and he obediently went over to the man, crouching down when the old blue bastard crooked a finger at him. 

“How’d he do?” 

Kraglin pursed his lips, looking back to see Quill standing in line with Tullk and Ger, chatting with them and waving around with his hands; probably telling ‘em about learning how to fly. He looked back at the Cap’n and nodded a little. 

“He’ll do jus’ fine, Cap’n. Jus’ fine.”


End file.
